Word Games
by Warfang
Summary: A simple summer trip courtesy of school turns dangerous. Dangerous enough that sharing a bunk with Hotstreak feels safe. Hotgear


I do not own Static Shock! Just some friendship between Virgil and Richie this time. Maybe a slightly jealous Francis later (why oh why do I keep falling onto a different track? Fine.) Ever have a muse that can bully you into writing? Oh, and a previously three page fanfic now has thirty pages with it.

Allow for an hour or more to read.

On with the story!

The last few days of summer were to be spent on a trip. Richie had forgotten about that sponsorship, but the school was more than happy to ship them off before school started again.

Sighing, Virgil slumped down next to Richie on the bus. They had another four hours to go. Everyone else was chatting or reading, and both he and Richie had forgotten to pack something to amuse themselves with.

Well, Richie forgot to pack books because he was smuggling Backpack with him.

"Well, we could always play a game." Richie suggested.

"With what?" Virgil replied.

"Our heads. There's this old Japanese game, where a consonant or a sound that the word ends with is what the next word starts with. It's a speed game. So like, I would say 'cart' and you would say 'tree' because my word ended with't' and your word started with 't'. You follow me?" Richie explained.

"I've got a game. But we'll need some paper and a pencil. Maybe a pen."

"I've got a pen. What's this game?"

"Well, it's something that I came up with myself. You start with a letter, let's say B. Then you can add a letter. So let's make it BE. Then you can add a letter to either side, as in _BY_, but you can't add a letter to the middle."

Richie followed the rules. They were easy enough.

"Now, if you add a letter, you get a point. But if you change a letter into another letter, you don't get a point. The point is that in the end of the game, you have the fewer points. And repeating a word is disqualification. So let's start. I'll turn it into BYE."

Richie asked, "But I can change any of the letters?"

"Only one letter into another letter, making it into another word. That doesn't add a point."

Richie almost felt bad for Virgil. He seemed to have forgotten that he was playing a super brain. So much for subtle hints. Virgil had already given himself the point for adding Y.

Virgil had also made the mistake of keeping the words in three letters.

_DYE _

LYE

_AYE _

ATE

_ACE_

ACT

_OCT_

Virgil twisted his head, looking at the three letter word. "What?"

"You know," replied Richie, fully ready to defend his word, "oct, as in, octopus, octagon, like, the old word for eight. You never said it was limited to just English."

Shrugging, Virgil jotted down his next word.

OUT

_BUT_

BIT

_BIN_

WIN

_WIT_

HIT

_MIT_

KIT

_LIT_

LIE

_LID_

LED

_LET _

YET

_BET _

MET

_NET_

SET

At this point, they had to go back up to the top and start a second column. The paper was only so long, and the alternating writing styles ate up the paper fast. Richie wondered if the paper, front and back, would last them the next four hours. Perhaps they would have a chance to try the game he suggested.

_SEE_

SEA

_TEA_

YEA

_YEN_

Richie smirked. Using 'yes' would have been all too easy. Perhaps using a different word would throw Virgil off his game. As it was, Virgil pondered for a full fifty-six seconds before coming up with another word.

ZEN

_TEN _

HEN

_HEY_

HAY

_LAY_

PAY

_DAY_

RAY

_SAY _

MAY

_MAD_

BAD

_BAY_

BAT

_BAN _

RAN

_FAN_

TAN

_TON _

SON

_SUN_

RUN

"Hey, didn't you already use that one? I thought you said no repeats- never mind, you put down RAN. My bad." Richie shook his head. Had the game been going on an hour already? Maybe passing the note back and forth and thinking was taking up more time than he expected. He didn't know how much time Virgil spent trying to drum up a new word, but for Richie, it was thinking of multitudes of words and selecting the one to use.

_RUT _

HUT

_HUN_

At Virgil's raised eyebrow, Richie defended his word again. "You know, as in Attila the Hun." Virgil grinned and wrote down his next word.

BUN

_BUY_

BUD

_DUD_

DAD

_FAD_

HAD

_LAD_

LID

_BID _

DID

_DIE_

TIE

_TIN_

DIN

_KIN_

Richie sighed. "I'm starting to think that I'm reading way too many murder mystery novels and watching too much television. My word choices are obviously influenced from too much Bones, NCIS, and Castle."

KID

_HID_

"Did we repeat that one?" Virgil asked, scanning the list. "No, you're thinking of Hit and Hen." Richie replied.

The game continued, down a third column, and finally onto the back. Two hours evaporated.

"Man, that was actually fun." Richie declared, stretching.

"Want to play my game or go to sleep?" He asked Virgil.

"I'll catch some sleep. I hear the first night is when we try the ghost stories." Virgil replied. Nodding, Richie stuffed the paper into his hoodie pocket for safe keeping. He should introduce this game to his dad. See if he could score Virgil some off the book points.

The bus rattled on before finally coming to a stop.

Richie walked up to Virgil once they were off the bus. "Bad news, man. You lost."

"Say what?"

"I was looking back over the list, and you repeated a word I used. You repeated LID." Richie waved the paper at Virgil.

"So, shall we go again tonight?"

"You two can play during community hour. But according to the list, you are not bunking together."

"What‽" the boys yelped. They were in their senior year of high school. Why couldn't they bunk together?

"According to Mr. Stone, you two are best friends, and are each other's only best friends. While you are here I expect you to make more friends. Understood? This isn't a selective bonding camp. I expect everyone to get a fair chance." With that, the sudden guidance councilor flounced off, her blonde hair swinging in its ponytail.

"Technically not what I said. I described you two as 'inseparable', which to her, spells trouble. Try convincing her otherwise." Hotstreak, or Mr. Stone, said from behind them.

"She's got rose tinted glasses thicker than her head." He added. His hair was still up, but noticeably shorter, and his blond streaks had multiplied. He was something to drool over, even as an ex-convict. He was wearing the male form of the female uniform.

White tennis shoes (wasn't there hiking here?), a white shirt, and red shorts. Along with a silver whistle around his neck, and a clipboard in his hand.

"Is this where you're serving your community hours?" Richie asked.

"Yes. Apparently the judge reckoned that I turned to crime because I saw less of the world. If I get a good feedback, I'm up for consideration on parole." Francis scowled.

Virgil and Richie exchanged looks.

Francis muttered something about revenge being best served cold.

"Well, you behave, and we'll judge your behavior entirely on the camping experience."

"That's good to know, Foley, because you're assigned to my cabin as the odd one out."

"I'm what?"

"See you after dinner."

Francis sauntered off.

"Man, tell me that you have your Shock Vox and that it's powered."

"Just be sure that the 'guidance councilor' doesn't confiscate it, thinking it's a cell phone." Virgil hissed to him.

Richie nodded.

They gathered their duffle bags and headed for the group around the bulletin board to find their cabins.

The rest of the school remembered Francis. Unfortunately, Francis was in charge of the hiking, archery, and the swimming.

"Swimming? I thought you couldn't get wet!"

"I lost my powers to the cure, alright? It doesn't matter now if I get wet or not. Why do you think I'm even getting this chance at life?"

Virgil shrugged.

"Which reminds me, I've got one slot left for a swimmer. Care to sign up, Hawkins?"

"I'll do it!" Richie literally jumped between them.

"Virgil forgot to pack swim trunks."

"So skinny dip. The water's too muddy to make a difference." Francis snapped.

"Ahem. Behavior." Richie sang under his breath.

Repressing a growl, Francis stalked off with his swim sheet to enter the information into the computer. This way, the students could be tracked for attendance without the councilors having to walkie-talkie each other.

It also kept track of strikes.

"Thanks for the save, man."

"No problem. But to lose your powers. I still remember when he thrashed that bang baby wolf that was chasing us. That poor kid looked like he was in pain, and then he smelled like he was in pain."

"Just keep a poker face, Rich."

"Sorry?"

"Well, when we fought Weird Eddy, you made the cutest noises every time you were surprised. First about losing your mask, then thinking it was your dad's car…"

"I am not cute." Richie groused, and pouted.

"No, but everyone here knows you're gay. And I can't have your back twenty-four seven. Bro, I think they put you with Francis for your own protection."

Richie tilted his head. "Why's that?"

"Because the priest is headed right for us."

Richie paled. His pastor back home was understanding. He even sat Richie down and explained that forty days was actually the Hebrew way of saying 'a really long time'. Richie wondered how hard that made taking the Bible literally. Sounded like he would have to learn Hebrew to read the original text.

But everyone knew the stereotype. If he's a homosexual, than he was an aberration, and a sinner. Which really sucked to be labeled before the person even knew you. There was the blunt approach, the side snob, the cold shoulder, the insistence that you convert to God and abandon your heathen ways, the friendly approach where they thought you were sick in the head and wanted to straighten you out….Richie felt his brain hurt.

He hadn't had migraines since he learned to not mix extreme emotion and rapid fire processing. The priest was getting closer, and he was overreacting. Maybe the priest wouldn't be all that bad.

"Mr. Foley, I presume? I would like to see you after breakfast tomorrow. I know you regard yourself as a homosexual, but I would rather your influence not spread to the other children."

"Sure. How does seven thirty to eight sound? Breakfast starts at seven, right?" Richie played it off. The priest gave him an empty smile, and passed Virgil with a 'my son'.

Virgil made a chocked noise.

"What. The. Hell. No. Which Hell did he crawl out from?"

"You can't blame him, Virgil. Not everyone sees eye to eye on the 'issue' of my sexual orientation. But yeah. Sticking his nose into my business like I'm out to sleep with everyone here was a bit rude."

"Remind me again why we're Christians?" Virgil grumbled.

"Because our parents dragged us to church and it's a staple religion to our lives. Trust me, just because there are a few jerks doesn't mean the whole religions down the drain. We're upstanding, aren't we?" Richie gave Virgil a weak smile.

Virgil slung his arm over Richie's shoulder. "Damn straight."

There was a pause. "Uh, not exactly what I meant." Virgil rescinded.

"S'okay, Virg. I knew what you meant." Grabbing his bag, Richie made his way to Francis' cabin for the next week.

"I'm sorry about the Father."

Richie whirled.

There was a nun behind him. A freaking ninja nun he never heard over the gravel behind him.

"I don't know what gets into him. He's like a Puritan. Nothing can deviate. The rest of us are a little open minded. We'll be around." Then she folded her arms under her- whatever that was, robe, shawl, front piece, and went on her way.

Richie frowned.

Great. Now he had nun like ninja angels protecting him from the priest. I mean, she might as well scream, 'we're here to stop him from killing you' with a megaphone. Sighing, Richie trudged on to the Cabin, set apart from the others. Well, it was apart in that it was closer to the woods, but it was in the middle of the row that made up the boy's side. The girls were on the other side. Smart move for surveillance.

Apparently who ever had set this place up wasn't an idiot. They knew what most teenagers were interested in. Besides, the ones actually here for the forest wouldn't be the ones causing trouble.

Opening the cabin, Richie noticed that it was more modern than the others. Instead of cots, there were real twin beds, and electrical outlets. A refrigerator hummed in the back ground. There was even a washer and a clothes line behind a partition. Whistling, Richie shut the door behind him.

"Stop that."

Richie whirled. Sitting up on one of the beds was-

"Ebon!" Richie dropped his bag and went to race out the door.

"The real priest is dead! The real priest is dead! Shut up, Foley!" A trace of panic was heard through Ebon's commanding attitude.

Richie stopped struggling and allowed himself to be dragged back as the door closed.

"So, right now, you aren't the bad guy? You aren't kidnapping me?"

"No. The police offered us a deal. Bring in the priest without tipping him off, and we get some years shaved off."

"So, if you're still a shadow, then Francis…"

"He accepted the swimming thing to throw the priest off our scent. Problem is, none of the nuns know the real Father is dead. It clinched it for us when he approached you. The real Father was a homosexual himself."

Well.

That bomb wasn't dropped often.

"Oh. He wants to talk to me tomorrow at seven-thirty-ish to eight. Think you could tag along."

"I'll definitely be going. We need court evidence on this guy. Unless he's about to kill you, don't expect me to save you."

Richie gulped, and nodded.

"Uhm there are only two beds, and Francis is staying here…"

"I'm not staying here. Shiv's got a single over on the girl's side. I'm staying with him."

"Shiv's here?" Richie yelped.

"Yeah. Bleached his hair and everything." Ebon sounded really disgruntled over that fact. What a minute….

"The other guidance councilor?" Richie gasped in horror.

"One of three." Ebon corrected. Richie felt a breath of relief leave him.

"See you in the morning, kid." With that, Ebon snuck around him and out the door.

"V-man, did you catch that?" Richie whispered into the Shock Vox.

"Loud and clear. I'm going to be checking your tracker every hour like I've got obsessive compulsive disorder. Get yourself cleaned up for dinner in another half hour." Virgil hung his perpetually on Shock Vox back in his back pocket. The new, water proof, sleek design that Richie had made were awesome.

And just in time, too. The teacher was making a round, getting every student who thought now would be a good time to text to hand over their phone to be put in a personalized bag. Promises to return the cell phones at the end of camp were made.

Virgil snorted. Only those that remembered they had a cell phone would be getting theirs back.

Turning, he headed out to check the surrounding forest. It might help to be familiar with the terrain from up above and on the ground.

…..

Dinner, and a rather nice sing along and s'mores after ward put the students in bed at midnight. Francis snapped something about no snoring when he got in at one am after patrolling. Reassuring him that Richie didn't snore, they turned in.

"Gear. Wake up."

"What? Static?"

"No, Foley, just future ammo." Richie came up out his bed so fast. Francis was standing over him.

"Oh man, you fell for it. I can't believe you did. And you are Gear. That means…."

"It means that I can discredit you with four fool proof plans that I can easily put into place. No one will believe you. So don't even try." Richie snarled from the floor.

Francis sent him a look.

"And what are you going to do about it?"

Francis found his feet swept out from under him. Richie pounced, wrestling Francis into submission, and pinning him. The wrestling match that ensued…Francis lost. Badly.

"This is what will happen. Even without Backpack, I can take you. I wonder how you're reputation will hold up, especially with the younger crooks on the street if a few choice rumors started that a nerd beat you hands down. How would you like having people out to take you down to establish their reputation? You leave my family and Virgil out of this, and I don't wreck your life beyond repair." Richie hissed.

Francis stared up at him.

This Richie…he wasn't mild at all. He was positively glowing, and feral, and dangerous. He was calculating, too. If he went down, Francis was going with him.

"Besides, aren't you supposed to be going straight? I know a few jobs that will be miserable for you, but they would give you a chance on probation, and then work you up. They wouldn't care about you being an ex-convict so long as you didn't relapse. Deal?"

"I can have your word on that?"

"I'll even let you crash at my place until you find an apartment. I know these guys. They're my dad's friends. Real jerks, but honest, hardworking jerks. They don't have enough brain cells to be sneaky." Richie scoffed.

Well. Apparently, Richie had some real sarcastic remarks he kept to himself. Was the laughing, carefree boy who hung out with Hawkins someone that Richie actually wanted to be? Or was it a fake? A way for Richie to escape how mean he was?

Well, Richie could keep on being mean. This little bitch fest was actually a bit of a turn on. Foley had a spine, and some very nice thighs.

"Do we have an agreement?" Richie snapped.

"Sure, Foley. Sure." Francis conceded. This person on him, gave a content grin and slid off of him.

"I'm going to go change. See you in the mess hall." Richie threw over his shoulder. Confident. Nice. Suave.

Until he tripped over his pajama bottoms. But even then, Richie was someone of high interest to Francis.

Francis made sure the window was locked before changing himself into uniform and heading out. Richie was right behind him.

"So, uh, are you going to tell Virgil?"

"I already know. The fight over the Shock Vox woke me up. I thought the priest had gotten him." Virgil had crept up behind him.

Now Francis knew the Universe was out to get him today.

"So, Rich, you going to make that meeting with the priest today? It's only seven in another thirty minutes." Virgil pointed out.

"You're what?" Francis yelped.

"Meeting with the priest. He wanted to talk with me after breakfast, so I'm going." Richie played it off coolly.

Francis looked distinctly perturbed. He was shaking, and his eyes kept darting around the empty mess hall, listening to the cooks.

"Ah. Well. Do you know where the priest is staying? I'll walk you there."

A rather see through offer, as the map would have it marked, but Richie went ahead and agreed. Now he would have Ebon and Francis looking after him.

Suddenly, if this priest wasn't the big bad wolf in disguise, Richie felt like he would have an utter let down.

….

The meeting with the priest left him feeling disgusted. Keeping a civil tongue in his head while the man all but verbally attacked him in the thirty minutes Richie gave him nearly left him in tears.

Tears.

And he had dealt with getting taunted and shunned by his peers.

But as it was, even when the priest put his hands on Richie, Richie noticed that they never made contact with him.

"Yuck. Trace amounts of nerve paralyzer. I hate that man." Ebon grumbled. He disengaged from Richie, swirling over to the cabin's shadow.

"You going to be okay?"

"See as how repeating anything that just happened in polite company is a crime in seventy-eight percent of the world, yes. I'm going to unwind to Virgil later, and make sure Backpack keeps a recording of that for your court use."

"Backpack? Isn't that Gear's?"

"Backpack version six is his current one. I got the one tossed out. The one without the scissors. Something about getting kidnapped a couple times." Richie jibed right back.

Hey, he was a genius. He could think on his feet. And Francis had promised not to tell.

Nodding, Ebon flowed off.

Richie conjured up his day's activities and headed off. He had a story telling to attend with a nature hike first.

…

Hiking, snacking, and then softball ate up his morning. Then he had crafts after lunch (who knew it could take three hours to make a dream catcher?) and then swimming. Then the group sing around the campfire, a sermon, and community hour. Lights off at midnight.

Francis came in around one am as usual.

"One day down, six left to get dirt on that douche bag." He muttered, stripping and falling into bed.

Richie frowned.

"Can't you take a shower first?"

"I swam in the lake. I'm not getting wet again. Find some nose clips if you're going to complain." Francis grumbled.

Waking up to finding air fresheners plugged into the electrical outlets with a note from Static agreeing with Foley was not the most pleasant wake up call, but it wasn't horrible, either.

Francis grumped about smelling like vanilla through breakfast.

One of the nuns hurried through, speaking rapid Spanish to the blonde guidance councilor.

"Mother Teresa!" Richie yelped.

Teresa, or Talon, frowned at him.

"Yes, my son?"

"You…uh….you look healthy."

"And you look stunned." She sniped back, before hurrying off with Shiv.

Francis was laughing into his drink. Richie turned back to his scrambled eggs. A slight spark jumped between the door knob and Francis when he opened the bathroom door to wash his hands after breakfast.

He sent an impressive scowl at Virgil later.

During lunch, when Virgil reached for the serving spoon after Francis, he had to bite his lip not to yelp and jerk back from the overly hot spoon.

Oh, this meant war.

….

Richie sighed as Ebon handed him another five dollar note.

"You do realize why Francis is losing, right?"

"I don't know. I think it's rather nice, seeing Francis get put down as Francis. Besides, he's been driving me crazy."

"So losing money on him in a bet works to your advantage how?"

"Because then he'll feel more like a losing jerk later." Ebon folded his arms.

"Right." Said Richie. It made a slightly twisted bit of sense. Hotstreak hated to lose. Francis was rather prideful. To find out how much he had lost, through proxy of Ebon, would be a blow to him.

As it was, Virgil was ready to call a truce. Francis had so far been civil through the pranks.

"Truce, Francis?"

"Forgive me if I don't shake your hand, Virgil."

"Perfectly okay. That's the prank I pulled on the Joker, after all."

"You did? Wow. Ferret didn't even have the sense to go along with the laughing bastard. He could have lasted until the Joker was out of commission. Sure, it'd get him into more trouble, but it wasn't until Batman showed up that he could stop laughing." Francis pointed out.

"You know, Francis, for someone with survival instinct, you actually are smart."

Francis snorted.

"Smart enough to know what you're doing, and that you're avoiding it."

"Avoiding what?"

"Don't play dumb with me. You know that thing between you and Rich."

"Nothing. I swear. It's just for his protection."

Virgil nodded. "Uh huh. My dad's dating a cop. He knows. She confirmed that you picked this mission because you know Richie. See you around."

Virgil waltzed out of the dining hall, out to see who would show up for the local folklore stories. Francis sat there for a moment. So everyone except Genius Gear had figured it out. Maybe it just hadn't caught his attention yet.

Then again, he slept naked in the same room as him, and all he did was put on some air fresheners.

Foley had to be the densest genius on this side of the earth.

….

The third day dawned bright and early. Accompanied by screams.

There were mutilated animals around the camp, their blood smeared over the cabins. Backpack hid in Richie's backpack and snapped photos of the camp.

Ebon, Hostreak, Teresa, and Shiv were in a huddle. Well, Teresa stood two cabins away from them, comforting the girls, while Hotstreak counted roll and Shiv had a noticeably bigger shadow.

That is, if everyone who wasn't freaking out cared to look.

"Okay, listen up! Those of you whose parents can take you back, go ahead and go back home. Those of you wanting to stay, stay. Those of you with no choice, you know me. Go ahead and stay here." Hotstreak hollered out when the panic didn't abate.

"Now, let's find out if anyone's missing, and who has an alibi for last night." Francis went through calling the names. Richie yelled, "I'm here, and you know it!"

"Well, explain to the rest of the camp grounds what that means." Francis snapped back.

"I have naked photos of you. And a friend in journalism. This is why rooming with me was a bad idea." Richie snapped, folding his arms.

The entire campground gave a gasp of horror.

Frieda and Daisy were laughing.

"Oh, dear god, you actually blackmailed the guy who knows where you sleep? Epic fail, Richie! There's no internet here!" Frieda gasped out.

Richie shrugged.

"Unless he's going to cover me in dead animals, I'm not all that worried."

The campers sobered up. Francis finished roll call, and after confirming that none of the kids did this as a prank, sent nearly half of them back home.

Cell phones were broken out, and the parents were more than glad to have their kids back by evening. They promised to tell the rest of the parents, so that the bus could be sent back for more.

"I can't believe we only kept one out of the three buses that brought us. I mean, I know two had to go back because they were needed, but only one for emergencies? Whose brilliant idea was that?" Richie shook his head.

"Rich, what happens in a time of crisis?" Virgil asked quietly.

Richie finished his lunch, then slipped out to go find Ebon.

"Ebon." He hissed in Shiv's direction.

A head grew out of the wall. "What?"

"How much longer until the priest offers his guidance in this trying time? You said he had trace amounts of nerve paralyzer. What happens if he gets his hands on all of the remaining kids?"

Ebon made a jerky movement.

"Shit. You think so?"

"Think so? I looked at the plants in his garden. Plan trimming and in general gardening was not how he got those trace amounts on his hands." Richie shot back. Ebon swore.

Shiv rested his blond head back against his shadow. Then Ebon left.

Heading back to his cabin, Richie allowed the others to clean up the camp. No one wanted a potential rabies case. As it was, there were a few blood samples being run, and the rest of the carcasses were burned.

Francis kept coming and going that night. Richie eventually put Backpack on alert and tried to get some fitful sleep.

He felt something ghost over him before he felt warm and safe. With a sigh, he dropped off to sleep.

Francis kept the fire up until Richie wouldn't wake from the increasing lack of warmth. Backpack was settled on the teen, and had its eye staring at him. Letting the fire die, Francis put on some shorts and crawled into bed.

Who knew if he had to go running through the camp again? Sure, his name was Hotstreak, but he was not looking to be arrested for public indecency.

….

The fourth day the priest made his move. Ebon and Teresa where standing behind him, with Francis in the back of the meeting hall and Shiv in the front.

Richie still wondered how the hell Shiv pulled off being a girl. Unless he knew what to look for, vapid valley girl just screamed at his senses.

That or ditzy blonde bimbo.

Shiv so earned the Oscar for best secret identity award.

Turning his head back to the priest, Richie picked up that he was indirectly claiming that the attack was caused as a warning to sinners. Richie frowned. These were teenagers. Most of them probably didn't even know how to give themselves over to Christ. So sue them for being self centered.

Christianity was no walk in the park. It was a commitment.

Richie sighed, trying not to attract the priest's attention. Some students looked confused, and others weren't listening at all.

Then the priest called for a baptizing. Richie saw the water move.

That wasn't just water, his brain processed. Sure, there was a percentage that he was wrong, but the priest was planning to hit all the kids with the nerve paralytic. It would be a mass kidnapping, or a murder spree.

"Static, set something on fire, blow the lights out, whatever! Just don't let him get that toxin on anyone!" Gear hissed through the Shock Vox. Thank God for being able to put it in his collar.

Virgil shifted a few rows over, closer to the front. The priest called the teens to order, and they began to file into the center aisle. The priest dipped his hand in the 'holy water' and –zap. A spark jumped from the bowl to him.

The contents of the water caught fire.

"Merci!" Yelped the priest. "The oil!"

Richie snorted. He doubted oil was what was burning. He had smelled burning oil before.

"Sir, olive oil doesn't smoke like that when it' burned. I think someone tempered with it."

The priest fixed a bulging glare on Richie, but then it was gone.

"Perhaps the trouble makers from last night. I'm sorry, my children, we shall pray instead."

The teens filed back into their seats, leaving Richie with a pounding heart. Teresa removed the bowl, obtaining samples for the court. Back where Francis sat, Backpack streamed the video to the police who were the contacts.

In a Police Department, Batman growled under his breath.

"Scarecrow. What's with the religious hype?"

"Maybe he heard about religious fear and wanted to give it a try." Robin suggested.

"Still, Batman, these kids should be able to handle themselves. Getting that school bus off the grounds was one thing. Getting them all out without tipping the Scarecrow and his cronies will be another stunt." The police chief pointed out.

Batman didn't nod.

"We'll find a way." He promised.

…..

The fourth day passed with the kids working massively on crafts and in general staying together. There were a few rousing games of blind man's bluff, and 'If you love me, give me a smile' and even a game of 'Quack, Quack!', not to be confused with 'Duck, Duck, Goose!'.

Richie flopped down beside Virgil, helping himself to a juice box.

"With half the kids gone, it's still rather busy." Virgil noted.

"Yeah. If we survive another three days, we go home by default. This is just so freaking weird." Richie added. They reclined on the grass, watching a potato sack race go by.

"Hey, how are you holding up? I mean, we're confined almost to spectator in this case. We don't know who priest guy is, and Hotstreak and Ebon being the good guys? They could put us out of business." Richie teased.

Virgil glowered at him.

"Super heroing is not a profitable business."

"At least, not the kind of profit you can pay rent with." Richie countered.

Virgil dropped his head back.

"I'm thinking of going to law school, Rich. What about you?"

"Eh. I need something that allows me to keep tinkering, but also gets my parents off my back. Mr. Wayne's made an offer. I think it had something to do with hotwiring his airplane over the Shock Vox."

Virgil looked at Richie.

"Yeah. I figured him out. My hours are going to be wacky, but I've proved I'm a capable learner. You should see me learn how to keep a house polished from Mr. Pennyworth."

"Who's that?"

"You've met him." Was the cryptic reply.

"I found some beanie bags! Anyone want to play a game of toss? We can use the bigger and smaller hula hoops for scoring!" Frieda yelled out. Some kids peeled away to help set up the next round of games.

"And here I thought city kids wouldn't be able to amuse themselves for so long." Richie declared.

"Oh yeah? How about you? Managing to hang on without your Plantman comics?"

"Dude, I'm staying with Francis. Like I'm going to give him any more ammunition." Richie snorted.

With a sigh, Virgil leaned back. The sun, the warmth, the sounds…the two fell asleep.

…..

Francis finished roll call.

"Can anyone remember when they last saw Virgil and Richard?"

"Uhm, I think Richie left from the sack race to get a drink. That was around three pm." A voice called out.

"Thank you. Go to your cabins, do not leave them. You've been reassigned to make sure no one is left on their own. After Richard and Virgil are found, we can do ice cream at midnight. Dismissed!" Francis yelled over the teens excited chatter.

He watched them file out and find each other, leaving in groups.

"Think there's any way that they got kidnapped?" Francis murmured to Shiv.

"I doubt that anything else could have happened. I mean, we know Richie's tight with Static, and that Gear sent his Backpack, dilapidated or not, to watch over him. Richie in turn, is protective of Virgil. I mean, if I hadn't seen Hawkins pacing his cell when Static broke down the door, I'd swear that they are one and the same." Shiv shrugged.

"Best guess I can hazard is that Richie and Virgil are precious to Static. Maybe cousins, or something. Maybe the remnants of an old gang that went down to the docks to save some loved ones. Regardless, we need to rescue those civilians. We got a plan, Ebon?"

"Teresa's reported that the priest is missing, and the nuns have died from what seem to be heart attacks. Shiv, you stay and protect the kids with Teresa. Hotstreak and I can track down the priest. Maybe save your boyfriend and your boyfriend's best friend."

"Hey! He's not my boyfriend." Hotstreak snapped back. "Besides, I'm a guidance councilor, remember? No fraternizing with the students."

"Then you'll be dating after parole." Ebon stated bluntly. The shadow flowed off to start searching.

"It'll be okay, Hotstreak. Go rescue your damsel." Shiv vaulted away, snickering.

Hotstreak fumed. "He's not my boyfriend! I haven't bought him a drink yet!"

…..

Virgil and Richie spent the fifth night at camp in a cell, huddled together. The fifth day would be dawning soon, and more than likely, everyone knew they were missing.

"But what I don't get is how we slept through the kidnapping. I know my juice box hadn't been tampered with. Any ideas?" Richie murmured to Virgil.

"See if you can hail Backpack?" Virgil whispered back.

"I've been trying. Backpack needs to be within three city blocks to find me. I never got around to uploading a tracking device that could be bounced off of cell towers to trace me down. Thankfully, unless I was magnetized, the tracer in my arm should be transmitting for three miles, presuming that there are no lead walls between us."

Virgil wondered how, for all of Richie's genius, sheer common sense could take him out.

"What about Shock Vox?"

"You mean, call the ones left in the Abandoned Gas Station of Solitude? Because I didn't give Francis one, even if he does know about us." Richie explained. "And I didn't leave a spare in my bags, before you ask."

The dingy light bulb over head flickered and glowed. Richie observed their cell. There were no furnishings, and the door was an iron grate. The passage went both ways.

There was no scurrying of rats or roaches, and the air was dry. No smells carried on the air, but Richie swore that there was a breeze in the passage.

The laid together, spare warmth between them. Richie wasn't wearing his blue and orange hoodie. The t shirt he was in left his arm to the unforgiving chills, and Virgil was also in a plain white t. At least they had jeans and shoes on, mutual choice in undergarments aside.

Virgil twisted, lying his back along Richie's front to keep some heat between them.

"I can't believe Ebon's on the rescuing end. I mean, I knew you had 'princess syndrome', but I didn't realize that it was catching!" Virgil exclaimed.

"Virg, bro, I know you're trying to make light of the situation, but can we steer clear of the damsel jokes this time? They're meaner than the time I thought that plane had ended in my dad's car." Richie murmured over his ear.

"Which was still funny, by the way."

"Says you." Richie shot back.

They fell asleep, the long night shortening into dawn. The fifth day arrived.

…..

Hotstreak landed. Flying around rather exhausted in, and it was more of a prolonged jump, the sort of blast off a space shuttle used than actually flying.

Ebon muttered once about how Ferret would have gotten the scent and that would be that, before continuing to spread himself as far as he could.

So far, Shiv and Teresa had everything under control. In light of the recent kidnappings, the police were going to try to evacuate the remaining kids. Batman was sending someone in, but they had no idea who, in case the Scarecrow could scare up the information on who.

As opportunistic as it was to snatch two slumbering teens, Virgil and Richie weren't exactly an ideal choice.

Finally, Hotstreak saw a surveillance camera. Signaling Ebon, the meta human slinked up the tree before tacking on the wire to feed a loop in the video.

Back in her watchtower, Oracle linked up the surveillance. Truly, Scarecrow wasn't smart enough to build up his own security, aside from hiring thugs. Fifteen minutes later, she had the inside codes and the schematics for the traps around the camp.

Sending the schematics to Batman, she began taking Ebon and Hotstreak through the forest, closing in on a building.

"I'm not seeing Virgil or Richard on the cameras. They could be anywhere in the complex that isn't showing up." Oracle wondered out loud.

"Maybe you could find the blue prints of this place? I'm pretty sure if the camp had an old rival camp built up here as well that there would be records of it." Hotstreak wondered aloud.

"On it." Oracle replied, sending another computer on a search.

"How do you figure that out?" Ebon hissed at him.

"Logic. If they're somewhere where the cameras aren't, then they have to be somewhere where cameras aren't needed. So my brain reckoned that there are either ruins, such as when Leech abducted us, and the fact that there's a camp back there in the middle of frickin' nowhere with sucky but there cell phone coverage. And we've been hiking uphill the entire time." Hotstreak pointed out.

"Are you going to downplay this and tell me that you like to blow things up?" Ebon remarked from beside him.

"That's what I told Static cause I would swear he could hear the 'Empire Strikes Back' music going through my head. Well, actually, it was on Naboo that those droids were flying around trying to shoot the Jedi." Hotstreak shrugged. "I have a reputation to maintain."

"A reputation you just put in the hands of Oracle." Ebon stated, tapping his mike.

Hotstreak colored.

"Easy, there, Hotstreak. I don't gain anything from spreading this around. Except to score you a date with a certain blond."

"Is everyone trying to set me up with Foley? God, why!" Hotstreak cried.

"Maybe because some of the bruises he came here with coincided with his dad taking anger management classes. You'd have seen him. Built like a tank, short blond hair, blue over coat for winter?" Oracle hazard. "You're a healthy young male, and you want to go straight. Richard's the live-in son to Robert Hawkins, of the Freeman Community Center. There are worse advantages."

"I am not screwing Foley for free psychiatric help. I just want a steady job, and a place to stay. I mean, the kid hates me. I bullied him."

"Denial is no longer a river in Egypt." Ebon snarked from above.

"Hotstreak, you can easily gain Richie's trust. You just have to go straight and stay in touch with him." Oracle cautioned. "I'm not saying you should see him as a solution, but as a person. Give him a chance?"

"Fine. I'll ask him out. After, I've got a job." Hotstreak caved. Besides, who knew? After being captured, maybe Richie would want someone to dote on him that wasn't Virgil.

"Wait, if Richie's gay and his best friend is Virgil, are you sure I won't be…?"

"Listen, Hotstreak." Ebon melted down to stand next to him. "I know the difference between hero worship, guy love, and crushing on or being in love with someone. Richie is definitely hero worship with respect and a healthy brother hood with Virgil. Nothing romantic to trip you up."

Hotstreak eyed him dubiously. "And you would know this how? Sorry Ebon, but I'll need some more to your word than just your word."

Ebon frowned at him. Well, his eyes narrowed and he leaned closer to Hotstreak.

"Quite thinking about my brother, and remember that I'm dating Shiv. We went through all of the phases before he just jumped me one night. Ugh. That was awkward."

Hotstreak could see it now, and he wished that he couldn't. A desperate Shiv, hanging off of Ebon, whining about having sex and giving all the reasons (some not sane or logical) as to why they should be a couple.

"Well, whatever Shiv said obviously landed you two in a relationship."

Ebon nodded.

"He said he'd gotten my brother's permission."

Hotstreak nodded.

"Wait, what! That means I have to get Virgil's permission!"

"Actually, you're supposed to get the parent's permission." Ebon corrected. But mine are dead was left out.

"His father hit him. And Richie's always hanging around Virgil. Maybe I should ask Virgil's Pops to date Richie. And maybe his birth mother. But I will not give that Mr. Foley a reason to put his son in the hospital." Hotstreak reasoned.

"You're there." Oracle crackled over the phone. "Good luck."

Rather than give them the codes, Oracle directed them to an empty hallway and Ebon opened a portal into there. That way, the doors opening for unregistered intruders wouldn't tip anyone off.

…

Richie screamed. His mother was telling him it was okay, and his dad advanced with the belt again. They would keep beating him until he agreed.

Agreed that Rap was bad.

Agreed that Virgil was a horrible person.

Agreed that he would marry a girl.

Agreed that he would never leave them.

Like they had left him.

Virgil groaned. So far, Scarecrow couldn't gas him, inject him, or trap him. Grumbling, the mad doctor wondered what the hell was in Virgil's system that kept frying all of his attempts to douse him with the fear gas.

Behind him, gibbering and sobbing and trying to curl into himself, but strapped to a table, the blond one was responding spectacularly to the fear gas. It was as though the boy's mind was exotic, and could place him within his own hell most realistically.

As it was, he was completely detached from this reality, no matter what Mr. Hawkins yelled at him. Every suggestion as met with sound logic, refuted, and yet, Richie remained firmly under the gas, a stray whimper breaking from him.

Was the boy Schizophrenic and hallucinating most wonderfully? He would have to run tests to find out. Growling, he selected another needle.

"I don't know how you keep stopping the needle, Mr. Hawkins, but it ends now. This is made out of ceramics. Not metal." With that, the needle slipped into Virgil's arm.

"I'll be back to check up on you in a while. Take care, Mr. Hawkins. Mr. Foley."

"No…no….no….Dad, please, I don't mean to…no….please…no…." Richie whimpered.

"Rich, stay with me. Rich, don't go. Listen to me, you're under the influence. This guy gave us something. He got me too. I'm going under. Just promise that you'll meet me again, by the old….ungh….the old clock at seven…oh god…mom?" Virgil fades off into a whimper.

Scarecrow laughs as he exits the building.

"Hurry up and get those cameras set up!" He snaps at a hired man. Nodding, the man jogs inside so that the research tapes could be set up.

….

Back at the watchtower, Oracle straightens up as a new feed comes online.

….

Ebon and Hotstreak have so far managed to find a whole lot of nothing inside of the building. No goons to fight, no evidence. They eventually find the priest robes, pressed and hung, and keep looking.

"So, our priest has a factory like abandoned camp in the middle of nowhere. Still no clues to his real identity, because Batman can't get a positive identification," Francis continues to mutter to himself, scouring the room.

Ebon suddenly pounced on Francis, wrapping him inside of his inky body, dragging him down a corridor.

Some man in a scarecrow outfit came into the room.

"Now for Act Two, when our dear lab rats turn to faith and experience even more fear!" He cackled.

Loosening up, Francis attempted to flow with Ebon as the shadow slunk after the mad man. Oracle flipped the soft whisper for radio silence. Batman approached with Green Lantern, deflecting the traps and watching the buses take the children and their stuff away.

Teresa agreed to go with the children, but Shiv was raring to go help Ebon. Finally getting rid of his female disguise, the Korean sprinted with his still blond hair after the coordinates Oracle was sending them.

"They're following Scarecrow, and dark's settling in fast." Oracle breathed. "There's a live feed set up. Richie and Virgil have had fear gas introduced to them. Richie's coming out of it, suggesting he was gassed first. He's trying to talk to Virgil when he isn't rationalizing his own hallucinations."

Batman grit his teeth.

Those were just kids.

"Batman. Focus on giving them the cure. You can process what they're scared of later."

"Why? Skeletons in the closet? Half the League's already betting when Richie comes out of the closet." Green Lantern shoots back.

"You've worked on child abuse cases." Oracle replies coolly. "This is mostly fear of not being the best for your parents, and given how much a child puts stock in wanting their parents to like them…this is ugly. I mean, you know how cut up I was about not being able to tell my Daddy? Well, Richie's got more baggage than I do. Virgil's is mostly about being a disappointment."

"Make sure to encrypt those videos." Batman orders. There's no give in his voice, but Green Lantern notices that Batman isn't letting up his stride. Shiv is still sprinting ahead of them, forgetting to hold enough back for the fight up ahead.

…..

Richie sobs. The father, the one who told him, the fake priest, is here, saying that Richie is a good boy, but he's gone down the path of sin.

It's a well rehearsed line, Richie thinks. The whole speech is rehearsed. A real pastor would have a speech outlined, and then deliver a sermon with God's word.

Richie analyzes the speech. He needs to know how to fight what he's saying, how to process what's going to be thrown at him. He needs to convince himself that this man is fake. He needs to reach Virgil, but the priest has gagged him. Virgil is shaking, biting his lip.

_He's going to chew through his lip_, Richie thinks distantly.

Then the priest is standing aside, and there's a woman in her late twenties standing before him.

"Here are the tools to lead you to a pious life. Away from the sins of homosexuality, and to what God has ordained." The priest steps back, and gestures towards Richie.

"Blow him."

Richie feels his stomach drop out. Oh sure, let him have Super Smarts. Let him be defenseless in the face of being raped. He was pretty sure that this wasn't part of God's plan. There was a Commandment about adultery, damn it!

What the hell is the woman's story? Religious fanatic? Victim? Cronie?

While she's getting on her knees in front of his upright body tied against a frickin' bed, his brain is shooting off into several directions to escape what was about to happen!

She's reaching out to touch him, when fire twines around Richie.

"You devil child, this one is protected!" A voice thunders from overhead. Scarecrow runs from the room, yelling something about bats. The woman is knocked out, and Richie feels the warm fire dance along his skin. He's sweaty, and tired, and thinks he's still on the drug, but there's a hand on his forehead.

"Take it easy. We'll get you out of here."

"Angel…" Richie murmured with a tired smile. He giggles. "I knew you'd have red hair. I'm more Irish than Viking."

The Angel looks concerned, and then there aren't any straps on him, and Virgil is making a lot of coherent sounds, and saying something about 'promise me at the clock tower'.

"You free to guard me at seven tonight? I've got a previous appointment…" and then Richie feels his brain drop off, exhausted.

….

Hostreak props Richie up, before going over to let Virgil go.

"He agreed to meet you at seven for a previous appointment?" He quirked an eyebrow at the electric teen.

"Just Rich's way of conforming that he's safe, now. It's our little code phrase. But man, that was a horrible trip. It was like the horror stories they tell you in health class about acid, LSD, and trust me, I am don't think I'm ever going to trust drugs again. Even from a doctor."

"So how where you receiving less of the dosage?"

"I charged the stuffed and expelled it. Richie, however, he's going to need therapy. He just caved, right off the bat, about his dad…" Virgil trails off, pensive.

Francis realizes that he doesn't want to say anything in front of his ex-bully, so he paces back over to Richie.

"Ebon's tracking down that scarecrow who's going to need a brain after all this. What say you that we get out of here? Cavalry's on the way."

Virgil nods, heading out after Francis.

"What about her?"

"Leave her. The Batman or GL can pick her up." Francis melts the lock off, and then remelts the bars.

"Oracle, I've got them."

"Good. Get out of there, stat. Scarecrow has a history of blowing up his experiments so no one can repeat them."

Francis takes off with Richie in a fireman's carry towards the exit.

Virgil gives him a strange look.

"What?"

"Nothing. I was just expecting you to be carrying him bridal style."

"Why does everyone pick on me?" Francis whined aloud.

Hurrying to the exit, they found Ebon gasping on fear gas with Shiv standing between him and Scarecrow. Green Lantern dropped a cage on Scarecrow, leaving Batman free to go around and give Ebon an old antidote.

"I don't know about this new strain, but this will have to do for now. Francis, can you carry him?"

Francis shifted his shoulders. "Yeah."

"Then let's go." Setting out on foot, they left the compound.

"You know, the odd thing is, we haven't beaten anyone to get to him." Francis mused out loud.

Shiv quietly lugged Ebon with him.

"Makes you wonder if the hired hit men are waiting outside to catch us in cross fire." Shiv wondered aloud.

Green Lantern dropped the shield around Scarecrow. He immediately raised the shield around the group, with Batman diving to snap some cuffs around Scarecrow.

Pfft. BAM.

The supersonic high speeds rifle fired a bullet that shook the whole shield, broke through, and was deflected into the ground.

Reinforcing the shield, Green Lantern looked around. Batman had his hands full, keeping the Scarecrow sedated. He was defending. Shiv was clutching Ebon, woozy on his feet. Francis had Gear, and Static wasn't looking too hot either.

"Should I call for backup?" Lantern called over to Batman.

"You are the backup." Batman called back.

Virgil gritted his teeth. Stumbling over to Green Lantern, he made sure that Shiv was paying attention to Ebon, and that Scarecrow couldn't see him.

"Need a boost?" He asked quietly.

"So I can do defense, offence, and get us out of here? That would do nicely."

Nodding, Virgil discreetly, or, as discreetly as one could with violet light glowing out of their fingers, gave Green Lantern a push.

The explosion of green light reaching out from the shield to snag the hit men wasn't loud. Oracle stated that thirty eight gunmen and three personal 'assistants', one left back in the cell, made up the majority of Scarecrow's base.

"He was setting up shop. Figured being so isolated, he would rather not draw attention with a large amount of activity." Oracle mused. With the disarmed convicts trailing behind them, Green Lantern levitated the whole group back to the camp, where the police where waiting with all the handcuffs they had.

After sending the convicts off to wait in the trucks, Batman signaled his plane to land.

"I'll be taking them to a hospital I know for treatment. Virgil, get in. Richard, you too."

Richie gave the plane a look. "It's two seater. It won't be safe."

"I'm not going with you."

Virgil's head snapped around in the back seat, the restraint already in place. "What?"

"It's on auto pilot. You'll be taken to the hospital just fine. I'll meet you there." Batman stalked off.

"So am I escorting the Batplane or the insider squadron?" Green Lantern called after him.

"Francis and the others have also been exposed to the gas. They're coming with us." Batman deadpanned.

Realization dawned as Batman turned a sheet into blindfolds.

"Oh, come on." Francis complained.

"It's this, or being knocked out. Which do you think your boyfriend wants to hear later?" Batman pointed out.

Francis opened his mouth to argue, then shut it. He'd heard about Batman being the world's greatest detective. Maybe everyone wasn't teasing him.

…..

Batman stood up. "That's the last of it. If you experience intense paranoia or fear, contact Static. He or Gear will call me. But the serum should clean out your systems."

Nodding, the five males headed for the lunch table Alfred had set out. The food disappeared before Richie finished saying grace.

"Hey!"

Francis shoved a sandwich into his hands. "Saved you some." Before collapsing down.

"How in the world are you going to get us out of here? Blindfolds again?" Francis guessed.

"Exactly." Batman replied.

"That and the sleeping agent you ingested means you'll wake up at home."

"Don't have a home." Hotstreak grumped.

"After working for the police and getting the evidence, least I could do was set you up with an apartment with safety measures." Batman replied.

The teens dropped off to sleep.

Virgil munched on a few crackers.

"How's it going? I mean, this is the second criminal to sneak all the way up to Dakota. I'm thinking we'll need to start a super computer database with all of the villains, just so we can handle whatever decides to hide out under the rocks up there." Virgil said.

Richie bit into his sandwich and chewed slowly.

"I can have one up and running in a few months."

"Or you can just take this. And I expect you to practice the meditations you find on it, Gear. You need to sleep more than six hours."

"Aw, man. How'd you…never mind." Richie pocketed the disc and followed Green Lantern.

Virgil turned to Batman.

"May I hypothetically guess that Ebon believes that working with the cops is his own choice? And that hypothetically, Gear and the rest are going to be the behind the scenes crew that makes our performances possible? And one more hypothesis- that was melatonin, not a sleeping drug. They were already exhausted from searching for us."

Batman studied the young Static for a moment.

"Hypothetically." He stated.

Shrugging, Virgil trotted over to Green Lantern, and the group exited the bat cave.

Watching them go, Batman wondered what the future would hold for the newly formed group. He wondered if leaning on Ebon after the drug bust had changed the future significantly. Or if the whole thing would fall apart.

He'd just have to wait and see.

…..

It was the seventh day, and the students were at the Freeman Community Center, asking if they could have a party for the rescued Richie and Virgil.

They asked politely if the students could celebrate everyone escaping, and snuck away from the party. Robert Hawkins permitted the party, just so long as the kids cleaned up after themselves. Then he had the boys over for macaroni and cheese with hot dogs. Sharon was inside, cooking up a storm.

Well, Adam was cooking up a storm. Sharon was setting the table with extra leaves and reading him the instructions. Ebon was smacking Shiv upside the head for turning his hands into an extra set of knife and fork.

"I don't care if you have meta human power. That still counts as eating with your hands." Ebon growled.

"Go wash your hands if you want to eat." Sharon throws in. "Francis, those hotdogs smell done. Slid them onto the platter, and set that on the table, after I've gotten the table cloth on it. Welcome home, Daddy! You two, I was so scared, but you're safe now. Go clean up and get back down here for dinner." Sharon finished up her round of orders and smoothed the table cloth over.

"There. Now, where are those plates?" She hustled and bustled, creating a rather home-y feeling in the kitchen that infected the rest of the house.

Hotstreak sidled up to Mr. Hawkins, rubbing the back of his head.

"Er, that is, I, uhm, if I…ugh. Can I date Richie if he says yes?"

Blinking once, Mr. Hawkins nodded.

"Does Richie even know you want to date him?"

"Everyone keeps hinting we should hook up. It's nothing serious, for now. I'm half expecting him to fall over laughing when I ask if he wants to d-date me." Francis muttered.

"And the other half?" Mr. Hawkins prompted.

"To fall over in a dead faint." Francis said bluntly.

"I was there when I was wondering if I should get Shiv a ring." Ebon chimed in.

"No one likes an eavesdropper, Ebon." Francis snapped.

"Considering that Richie's standing behind you in shock, I don't think it counts as eavesdropping when it's about to make the shriek o'clock news." Sharon comments.

"You-you-you….yah want to date! Me? Where the heck- this isn't happening. I'm having a relapse. Someone call Batman." Richie waved his hands and headed back to his room.

"Get me a straight jacket…" he mumbled.

Francis stormed after him.

"Foley, I'm serious! Well, as serious as I can be! I don't even know if this is love, but I want to find out, and I only want you, so may I have a chance?"

"You're mocking me. Go away."

"I'm ruining my standing reputation!" Francis exclaimed. "And I'm doing this in front off your family! That's too wacked out for this to be a hallucination!"

Richie groaned, sitting on the stairs.

"So far, hallucination Francis is making sense."

"Can you hallucinate being kissed?" Francis tried.

"Negative. There's no experience to draw upon, no reference material to draw a succinct conclusion to. Why?"

Francis leaned over and kissed him.

"There. This is not a hallucination, and we're having dinner. Will you, uhm, do me the honor, of...oh screw it. I want to date you. Any objections?" Hotstreak ended on a strong note.

Richie gaped at him for a moment.

"I don't kiss until the third date."

Shuffling his feet, Francis managed somehow to keep looking into Richie's eyes.

"But sure, why not?"

Francis held out his hand, and pulled Richie to his feet. They grabbed adjoining seats at the table, while Mr. Hawkins said grace, Richie stroked Francis' hand.

…..

Author's Note: 10,195 words long. Over thirty-three pages. I have spent the past four days writing this. I hope whoever reads this reviews, or favs, or something to let me know it's appreciated! Now, let me skip back to the top and warn people to allot for over an hour's reading.

Thank you for reading!


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